Can You Dig It?
by BelleOfTheBook
Summary: Bella loves her career, her apartment, and even her feisty roommate. But for all of the wonderful things she has in her life, the one thing Bella wants is something she thought she'd never have... Edward Cullen's heart. An aspiring archaeologist, can Bella dig deep enough to find the truth for Edward's actions in the past? Rated M for language and lemons .
1. Spock & Shock

**Author's Note: This is my first fanfic, so bear with me... it's a learning process. Feel free to review and share any thoughts, ideas, or comments you have. Thanks!**

**Stephenie Meyer owns all of the Twilight characters... I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement, and hopefully, the amusement of anyone who reads this. **

**BPOV**

Being a vegetarian at a vegan party is much like being an Episcopalian and visiting a Catholic church – similar belief system, but if you want to be an official member of the church, you'd better convert. And if a vegetarian is the equivalent of an Episcopalian, I'm guessing I would be the Anti-Christ. I eat a cheeseburger a day, would rather die than give up my one _real_ leather Coach bag, and I did not vote for the Green Party candidate in last year's Presidential election. In fact, I didn't vote at all. Scratch the whole "Anti-Christ" bit – my name is Isabella Swan, and according to these people, I'm Lucifer in the flesh.

I can't believe Rose did this to me again. After hours of shameless begging and groveling on her behalf, I got dragged to yet another one of these pointless parties, if that's what you'd call this. Rose works at _Cleanse_, an organic/vegan friendly health food store, and she always begs me to come to these little get-togethers that her friends from work arrange. They hold these shindigs at the apartment of Tanya Denali (a.k.a. Queen Tanya of the planet Vegan), discussing vegan-friendly shoes, vegan-friendly recipes, and even vegan-friendly politicians. Vegetarians are mildly tolerated, but only for a while (see first paragraph).

If these friends of hers could be anymore of a stereotype, no one would believe me. The only food and alcohol served at the party is vegan-friendly, like raw vegetables and wheat beer, and I usually have brush my teeth three times before I hang out with her coworkers because I swear they can smell cheeseburger breath a mile away. I have to make sure all my clothes are made of natural fibers (no leather, especially). I have to deal with the music playlist, which is somewhat limited since they only listen to musicians that are vegans (sometimes they listen to vegetarian artists, but they have to be "really good", whatever _that_ means). These people are not your usual happy-go-lucky, peace-loving vegans – these people are _extreme._

And even though she promised she wouldn't leave my side, Rose has left me alone to deal with Eric Yorkie, yet again.

"… and do you know who it was?" Eric asks me expectantly.

"Leonard Nimoy?" I say deadpan, losing the battle in my attempt at not acting bored.

"It was Leonard Nimoy!" he says, ignoring my answer. "I swear to God! Spock himself walked right out of Burger King," says Eric, ignoring my previous answer.

_Yep, I'm going to kill Rose... right after she pays me this month's rent._

I have heard his "I met Leonard Nimoy at a Burger King in L.A." story at least a dozen times. I feel almost sorry for him. Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against _Star Trek_. It's an American Classic. But this is not the kind of story most girls want to hear, much less repeatedly.

"Wow. _The_ Leonard Nimoy. Listen, have you seen Rose?" That sounded a little sharper than I wanted it to. I amend my tone and pout. "It's just that I'm not feeling too well and I'd like to go on home."

"Oh," Eric replies with a hint of disappointment. Then his head snaps up when he says, "Uh, I-I could take you home, Bella."

There's so much hope there in his eyes, it just makes it all the more pitiful. I say the only thing in the world that every woman uses as a secret weapon at some point in her life…

I lean into him to whisper, "That's sweet, but I'm cramping pretty badly and Rose drove us here in her car. I think she has some tampons in her purse."

"Oh," he says nervously. When I see Eric turn three shades of red at the mention of the word "tampon", I think to myself _Bingo._

In my somewhat limited experience with men, there are three topics that have a 99.9% success rate at stopping any unwanted come-ons:

**Number three**

_Bodily functions_ – Talking about menstruation, diarrhea, or vomiting is self explanatory, especially in reference to the first one. Men _cringe_ the moment you mention you're "riding the crimson wave" so when used appropriately (or in my case, very _in_appropriately) you should be home free.

**Number two**

_STD's_ – Hinting you might have herpes, chlamydia, or any other disease is a quick remedy to unwanted male attention, but it should only be used in dire situations in which you are out of town or in a place it won't come back to bite you in the ass.

For example, I knew a girl back in college who said she was having herpes break out to brush off a guy at a frat party and it spread like wildfire. She was never hit on again during her remaining education at UW. She tried to transfer to a couple of different universities in state, but her reputation followed. Rumor has it that fraternities have a "black list" website where girls with known diseases have their names posted. Last I heard she ended up at a bible college in Colorado where the Greek system was not allowed.

**Number One**

_Commitment_ – This one is self-explanatory. The mention of the words marriage, babies, or any other suggestion of monogamy is guaranteed to have them running. Sometimes they even leave skid marks when they flee.

Eric is actually a decent guy, and I'm proud of him for even working up the courage to offer me a ride home (even though I am _obviously_ sloppy seconds, due to his well-known, enormous crush on my roommate, Rose). But even though his intentions are honorable and I would only have to decline for him to cease making any moves, I can't bring myself to give him even the faintest measure of optimism. Grossing him out really is the kindest way. Lord knows, he's been following Rose around like a lovesick puppy for years and when given the slightest encouragement, there's no shaking him off. He may be hitting on me at the moment, but his heart has always belonged to Rosalie Cullen. In fact, I'm pretty sure she's the reason he went to the University of Washington here in Seattle with us, when I know for a fact he got in to Stanford and Berkley on full scholarship.

Rose doesn't seem to mind him following her around though. She's only ever been nice to him, which is rare for her. She even got him job at _Cleanse_. I think she's flattered by having a would-be stalker, not that Rose is in short supply of those. The woman is Pamela Anderson's worst nightmare – 5'8, long blonde hair, and a stacked like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model... _bitch._

I have known Eric Yorkie for five or six years now, ever since I moved to Forks, Washington to live with my dad my junior year of high school. He was rather lanky, always wore the wrong clothes, didn't have a car, and of course he was one of the smartest kids in school (though his common sense factor was well below average). You would think being smart would give him a few points, but anyone who has been to a public high school knows there are two kinds of smart kids: the attractive, popular, all-American smart kids – then there's the unattractive, not-so-popular, spaz-like smart kids. Eric was in the latter group. You know, the ones that could do advanced Calculus in their heads, but would get hit by a parked car? That was Eric Yorkie; the Trekkie that couldn't eat lunch in the cafeteria without wearing it on his shirt the rest of the day.

And based on tonight's conversation and the large glop of hummus on his vegan-approved, cotton/natural fiber blend t-shirt, that fact still rings true.

My plan has worked better than I thought it would – Eric is already looking around the room for exits. "I think I saw her leave with Emmett about twenty minutes ago," he says dejectedly at being reminded that the love of his life has left with another man.

"Shit."

"Um…I have to… bye!" Eric immediately runs out of the room like a bat out of hell.

Rose, my oh so wonderful roommate, has just left me for her on-again off-again boyfriend. On odd days they can't stand each other. On even days they can't stand to be _away_ from each other. I'm guessing today's an even day.

Rose met Emmett McCarty at_ Cleanse_ a few months back when she started working there. She made the mistake of thinking the store was some kind of bathroom accessory shop when she had seen it in the new strip mall downtown. When she spotted Emmett working at the counter, right then and there, she became a vegan and an employee of the store, though we all know she doesn't need the money. The Cullens are loaded.

Looking at Emmett and his physical perfection, I can understand the attraction. But no matter how scrumptious his body is, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't give up bacon cheeseburgers, strawberry milkshakes, or deep-dish pizza for any man. Well, maybe I would for Gerard Butler or Johnny Depp, but what are the chances of _that_ happening?

"Rosalie Elizabeth Cullen, I'm going to kill you. And I'm going to take my time doing it. I'm talking serious torture here; possible-loss-of-motor-functions when I'm through with you." I hang up my cell phone, satisfied with my voicemail on Rose's phone.

I wait around for another hour, praying to heaven that Rose will listen to her voicemail. It's possible she already has... and there's a fifty-fifty chance that her avoidance of my wrath is the reason I'm not getting a response, not that I could intimidate her if I tried. My rage is more annoying than terrifying, according to her.

I try her cell again when I hear "Poker Face" being played somewhere in the distance. My first thought is _I didn't know Lady Gaga was a vegan-approved_, thinking it's coming from the stereo. Then I realize it's Rose's cell phone ringtone. I call it again, following the sound of her phone and spot it on the counter in the foyer.

I move out of the foyer and make my way to the balcony that overlooks downtown Seattle. It's still a bit noisy from all of the Friday night traffic below, but it's considerably more appealing than what's going on inside the apartment. Another bonus? If I can't get a hold of Rose in order to leave this place, I can just jump off of the balcony and be done with it all. Death by fall is preferable to one more moment with these people. I don't have Emmett's number, so I scroll down her contacts list and dial his number from her phone.

"Hello?" answers Emmett. His voice sounds breathy and I can hear Rose's throaty phone-sex operator laugh in the background. I'm glad someone is having a good time.

"Get Rose on the phone _NOW._"

"Uh… okay?" Emmett says a little unsteady.

One of the reasons I like Emmett is that he knows when to back down from an angry woman and do what he's told. I'm pretty sure that's why Rose likes him too, at least on even days.

I hear some shuffling on the other end of the phone and Rose answers as if she's being the one inconvenienced. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You left me stranded in this god-forsaken place! Where are you?"

"I'm at Emmett's place," she answers as if it's the most logical thing in the world. "I'm glad you have my phone though. Don't forget to bring it home."

_Is she kidding?_

"Don't worry. I can remember lots of things, unlike some people. Speaking of remembering, were you planning on coming back to get me at some point this century or did you forget I existed? You _promised_ you wouldn't leave me alone here!"

"It looked like things were going pretty well with you and Eric so I took the hint and left with Em," she says in nonchalance, but I can hear the smile in her voice.

"The hint? What hint? My suppressed gags at Eric's tofu breath or my feigned interest in Leonard Nimoy? Or was it something else that tipped you off that I was mildly enjoying myself?"I scream back into the phone.

_Breathe, Bella. Just breathe. Count to ten. One, two, three, four…_

A few moments of silence later and Rose asks, "You there, Bella?"

I take a deep breath. "I'm counting," I say through my teeth.

"Don't you dare start counting on me, Isabella Marie Swan!"

"Don't worry. I won't," I reply, deliberately twisting her meaning.

"You know what I mean. And by the way, I was doing you a favor!"

"A favor? You left me with Eric fucking Yorkie and his dumbass Spock story, bad drinks, worse music, and food that even my rabbit would find inedible! How is that a favor?"

"You had been talking to Eric for a while so I thought… well… you know…"

"Are you joking?"

All of a sudden she starts laughing and says, "Of _course_ I'm joking! After Em and I split… Oh yeah, we made up by the way!" she beams.

"Yeah… I guessed," I reply deadpan.

"Anyway, so when I realized we weren't coming back, I made a call. Your ride is on the way… Em, stop! That tickles!..."

_I don't even want to guess what he's tickling..._

"Rose?" No answer... "Rose?" No response... "Rosalie!"

"Huh? Did you say something, Bella?" she says all breathy.

_God, can they not stop groping each other for five seconds?_

"Rose, focus! Who did you call?" I hear more rustling and giggling on the line. "Rose! Who is coming to get me?" I yell into the phone.

"Oh, for the love of God, Bella. Calm down. My brother is in town, and since he's a loser with nothing to do on a Friday night, he's coming to get you. He should be there any minute," she says nonchalantly.

_Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod…_

"Ed…" I clear my throat because all of the saliva has dried in my mouth… and I think I'm going to vomit. "E-Edward is c-coming here?"

"Sorry, gotta go Bella. Don't wait up!" she laughs. And then the line goes dead.

I stand there is utter shock and disbelief. I haven't seen Edward in more than five years and not a day goes by that I don't think about him…

**So, yes, Edward will make his entrance in the next chapter and their history will be revealed. Thanks for reading (and review if you have the time). **

**:)**


	2. The Nose Knows

**Author's Note:**** Thanks to _ecxe _and _Twilight Saga Nerd_ for my first two reviews. I did a little fist-pump dance upon receiving them. Thanks for reading and keep the reviews coming. **

**Stephenie Meyer owns all of the Twilight characters... I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement, and hopefully, the amusement of anyone who reads this.  
**

**BPOV**

I stayed out on the balcony, avoiding the vegan army inside at the party and willing the butterflies out of my stomach at the thought of seeing Edward Cullen again. I was torn between grabbing a ride from Yorkie and waiting for Edward. I wanted to see him, and yet I didn't.

I desperately wanted just to be near him, yet I didn't want to spoil the fantasy that he was in my own mind. Like if I actually laid eyes on him, reality would all come crashing down.

I didn't want to think about the _last_ time I saw him, so instead, I remembered the _first._

I was seventeen when Renee, my mother, had just gotten remarried back in Phoenix. Instead of sticking around for the honeymoon months (which I'm sure would've been much worse than their already disgusting groping) I decided to move in with my dad Charlie… to the rainiest freakin' city in the world.

It was not my greatest decision ever…

I convinced myself that high school would be the same no matter where I went. Other than Renee, I had no real connections back in Phoenix so it was no big deal, right?

Wrong.

My school in Phoenix was huge, so blending in was never a problem. I could walk down the crowded halls using the throng of students as camouflage, never to be noticed by anyone – and I liked that just fine.

Forks High was another story entirely.

The total number of students at Forks was half the size of my class back in Paradise Valley High. Plus, the fact that Charlie had told everyone within an earshot that I was coming to live with him, everyone knew all about me.

With the exception of Eric Yorkie, no one would talk to me. Of course, the boys stared out of curiosity, but none showed any interest, though I didn't know whether that relieved me or depressed me. I was used to that, though. I was average height, pale, had frizzy brown hair, muddy brown eyes, braces, stuttered uncontrollably anytime I was nervous (which was most of the time), and I wore t-shirts from the little kids' department – what boy would wanna "tap that"?

Exactly.

The girls, however, took notice – whispering my name and dishing out the dirty looks, as most teenage girls are born knowing how to do (for no reason other than they can). Unfortunately, there was no crowd of students to hide behind or blend in with.

I was in my own personal hell.

For the most part, I could deal with that. I could deal with the stares and the whispers and even Eric Yorkie (who asked me if I wanted to hang out after school and listen to his William Shatner CD). What I _couldn't _handle was Lauren Malory tripping me in the lunchroom, spilling my Yoohoo all over my favorite _Fraggle Rock_ t-shirt… and the busted, bloody nose that came with me practically face-planting into the floor.

All I can say is _thank God for Rosalie Cullen._

I was holding my bloody nose, whimpering in pain and trying to hold back my tears in vain; I endured the ridicule, the gasps of shock, and the nasty laughter coming from Lauren's table when suddenly, someone stood over me and everything stopped.

It was Rose.

………………_**.FLASHBACK……………..**_

_I am embarrassed… No, I am _mortified_… I am… holy crow, am I bleeding?_

Hot tears of humiliation streamed down my face, mixing with the blood pouring from my nose; I could taste the rusty bitterness of it as it ran to my lips. Blood had always made me nauseous to the extreme – I was focusing all of my concentration on keeping the amount of Yoohoo that was in my stomach and not on my shirt from spewing out. Upchucking would've been the nail in the coffin to this disastrous situation.

"Need a hand?"

The room was silent… I wiped the blood from my nose and the tears from my face to look up and see the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on with a hand outstretched towards me. She looked like those women I saw in my mother's fashion magazines. She didn't even look real.

I looked around the room, seeing everyone in stunned silence with their mouths hanging open, but all I could comprehend was that someone was talking to me, not just _about _me, and that she was offering to save me in some small way.

_She is an angel. She has the heart of a saint. She is…_

"Well don't just fucking sit there all day."

_She has the dirtiest mouth I've ever heard on a girl… no… on anyone…_

"You've got blood and chocolate milk all over the most fuck-awesome t-shirt I've ever seen. I'm Rose, by the way – and you're the Chief's daughter. Introductions are now made. Now get your ass up and let's get you the fuck out of here," she stated in a tone that bordered between a phone sex operator and a drill sergeant.

I hesitated taking her hand, not only because I was still in shock, but also, I didn't want to get her dirty. She had on a beautiful white cashmere sweater set (that showed way too much cleavage if you ask me) and the thought of getting blood on anything that expensive bothered me enormously.

When I made no move to take her hand, she grabbed me by the elbow and hauled me up to stand straight. Rosalie Cullen was either freakishly strong or I was just too frail – I'm guessing it was a little bit of both.

"Don't worry about Lauren," Rose said, ignoring my silence. "She's a total cunt and will get what's coming to her, believe you me."

As she said it, Rose looked at Lauren who visibly shrunk down in her seat and swallowed hard. I knew at that moment that Rosalie Cullen was a force to be reckoned with and reminded myself to never give her any reason to dislike me in any way.

Bypassing the school nurse because, according to Rose, "That old bat will give you a fucking band-aid and sent your scrawny ass right back to class," So we hopped in Rose's red convertible, peeling out of the parking lot.

She asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital and I shook my head vehemently. I didn't want this getting back to Charlie until I could come up with something to tell him. She said we could head to her house, where her father, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, would fix me right up and I could borrow some clothes. I nodded my consent.

A trip to the school nurse or the emergency room would automatically ensure a call to Charlie. He already worried about me too much without having to hear about this. Besides, he would have called Renee and that was a conversation I just didn't want to have.

On the way to her house, Rose gave me the lowdown on most of the people at school, including herself, seeing as if I was (to put it mildly) socially retarded and made no effort to actually speak. She was not shy in admitting that she was the top of the high school totem pole – the queen bee. Though some would think that cocky and brash, I saw it as raw honesty. I could respect that. After all, I saw it first hand moments ago in the lunchroom.

After driving a mile or two on a private drive, I expected Rose's house to be nice, but when it was finally in front of me I realized it wasn't just a house… it was a freakin' mansion.

There were at least three stories with a garage big enough to store a fleet of cars. The garage alone was bigger than Charlie's entire home. Floor to ceiling windows alternated with the ivy covered whitewashed stone of the house and I could see that there were balconies around the sides on each floor. The landscape was abundant in finely trimmed shrubbery and a marble fountain stood center of the circular driveway. It looked like something from a fairytale, surrounded by the dense forest on all sides.

It's somewhere a princess should live.

As Rose made her way to the front door, me following clumsily behind her, I cleared my throat to speak. She abruptly stopped and turned around, and of course, I nearly ran into her.

"Hey," she said, grabbing me by the shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes. I j-just wanted t-to say th-th-thank you," I stuttered.

She gave me curt nod and said, "You're welcome."

"Why d-did you d-d-do it?" When she looked at me questioningly, I continued. "You know… help m-me?"

She looked me right in the eye and, without hesitation, said the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me…

"Because Lauren Malory is a horse-faced cunt, you looked like you needed a friend, and you know what else? Fraggle Rock was the greatest fucking TV show in the history of cable. I watched that shit religiously as a kid. I used to drive my brother butt-fucking nuts singing that theme song all the damn time. It was great."

And with a smile, she grabbed my arm, interlocking it with hers, and ushered me into her home, and her life, humming the theme to Fraggle Rock. I was never more happy with my choice of wardrobe than that day.

Of course, the inside of the house was as breathtaking as the outside, so I made sure not to touch anything.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!" Rose screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Rosalie Elizabeth Cullen, scream one more time and I'll…"

"Mom, this is Isabella Swan. Isabella, this is my mom, Esme," Rose said with a smirk.

Esme walked out of the kitchen looking more like her sister than her mom with beautiful head of caramel colored hair and warm green eyes. Those same eyes nearly bugged out of her freakin' head when she got a good look at me.

"Oh dear, child! What in heaven's name has happened to you?"

Before I could even form a response, she was hugging me to her small, soft frame and cradling the back of my head with her hand. She smelled like baby powder and pumpkin spice all mixed together.

_This is what a mother is supposed to smell like._

Renee was always more of a friend to me than a parental figure – and she usually smelled like designer knock-off perfume and Indian take-out.

Rose explained a less embarrassing version of what happened to me at school while her mother ran a warm washcloth over my face and neck. Rose left out the part where I was the victim of malicious schoolgirl evil, and I appreciated it more than she knew. I had still not said a word in front of Esme.

"Where's Dad?"

"An emergency at the hospital dear, which is where you should have taken Isabella," she said, giving Rose a reproachful look.

"I would have, but I was trying to save the girl some face. You know how fucking gossipy those nurses are. Especially that bitch…"

"Language, Rosalie."

"Sorry, Mom."

"Anyway, Edward's here and this should be something he can handle."

"Oh great. Let's let Isabella give 'the boy wonder' another opportunity to save the day…" Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

Before Esme could answer back, I managed to speak.

"B-Bella," I managed to say.

Esme look at me with a warm smile "What's that dear?"

"P-please call m-me B-B-Bella."

"Okay, Bella." Esme patted my hand and sent Rose and I in search for Edward, the boy wonder.

Rose, as eloquent as ever, yelled yet again as she led me to the family room. "EDWAAAAAAAARD! COME HERE!"

"Quit yelling!" Esme screamed from the kitchen. I laughed for the first time in weeks.

"Sorry, mom." She leaned over to me and whispered, "And the woman says _I _have a set of lungs. Wonder where I fucking got it from." We giggled.

"What?"

Rose and I looked toward the stairs where the voice came from and I nearly peed my pants.

"Oh. Hello," said the barefoot Adonis in blue jeans and an undershirt.

"Boy Wonder, Bella. Bella, Boy Wonder."

I couldn't breath. I couldn't speak. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my entire life. My heart ached knowing a creature so breathtaking would never be meant for someone like me.

He had an unruly mess of bronze hair, a shade or two lighter than Esme's, which looked like he had run his fingers through it all day. I wanted to touch it just to see if it was as soft as it looked. His lips were pouty and full, but did not make him look feminine. Oh no – he was definitely all man. With finely toned muscles wonderfully on display beneath the wife-beater shirt, a strong chiseled jaw, and a little five-o'clock shadow against a set of pearly white teeth, this was the world's finest male specimen.

And he had just said something to me while I was spacing out.

I flushed with embarrassment, feeling the blood rush to my face and neck when he gave me a crooked smirk and repeated himself.

"Nice to meet you, Bella."

As he came forward to shake my hand, I was entranced by the intensity of his green eyes. I quickly made a curtain of hair around my face and I hung my head down while shaking his hand.

"Bella here had a wee accident at school today. Can you take a gander at her shnoz?"

"Take a what at her huh?" Edward said, dumbfounded at his sister's vocabulary.

"Look at her nose, dipshit."

"Rosalie, language!" Esme yelled again from the kitchen.

"Sorry, mom!"

"Well, hop to it Boy Wonder. Let's not waste that medical school knowledge."

I later learned that Edward was in his second year of medical school, wanting to be an ER doctor like his father. Yes, he had a body and a brain…

After sparing his sister an annoyed glance, he smiled back at me, which I returned by ducking my head down once again.

"Sure. Take Bella to Dad's office. I'll grab my kit and be in there shortly."

Thankfully, Rose had made a detour to her room for me to borrow one of her shirts. We made our way to what I assumed was Dr. Cullen's office upstairs where Edward was waiting for us.

"Have a seat right here Bella and tilt your head back for me."

_Great. The one time a hot guy is this close to my face, he's looking up my nose. I am such a freakin' loser._

"So, how did this happen?" he asked, looking up my nose with a little scope with a light attached to it.

"Um… I… uh… I t-t-tripped at s-sch-school and-d f-fell on m-my f-face."

_I sound like a retard…_ _Someone kill me please…_

"More like _got_ tripped," Rose muttered under her breath, but Edward heard it.

He glared at Rose and asked, "Who tripped her?"

Rose looked at me apologetically, but answered him nonetheless. "Nurse Malory's daughter."

"Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree – what a bitch. Pardon my language, Bella," he said with a gentle smile.

I couldn't really focus on the conversation with his minty cool breath washing over me. He smelled like peppermints and leather-bound books and Christmas trees. I wanted to lick that little dimple on the left side of his cheek. I was imagining him lick me… I was dreaming about…

"…okay, Bella?" Apparently Edward had just asked me something.

"Huh?"

He gave me an indulgent smile. "I said, we're going to have to reset your nose, okay? It's going to hurt a little bit, but if I don't set it, it will heal crooked."

"Okay."

I would have done anything he asked of me. If he had told me that we needed to cut my nose completely off, but that it would grow back, I would have believed him.

"Here, hold onto this." He handed me a stress ball from the desk next to us. "Squeeze this as hard as you can and on the count of three I'm going to set your nose back, okay?"

Rose gave me a nervous smile that looked more like a grimace, but I nodded my head and looked up, getting into Edward's clover green eyes. He brought his hands to my face, stroking my nose downward with his thumb. It was a sweet gesture that had me melting in my chair.

"On three. Ready?"

I nodded. He placed his hands on both sides of my nose.

_His hands are sooo soft…_

"Okay. One…"

_His lips are sooo beautiful…_

"Two…"

_I wonder if he has a girlfriend. Oh, who am I kidding. _Of course_ he has a girlfriend – probably several. _

"Three."

My nose made an awful crunching sound, but before I could even snap out of my ogling to notice the pain, it was gone.

I brought my hand to my nose and smiled at Edward, which he warmly returned. He taped my nose and told me to put ice on it.

Esme entered the room to check on us, an icepack already in hand.

"How's it looking?" she asked.

"I had to reset it, but she didn't so much as flinch. Never seen anything like it. She was a brave kid."

I was basking in the glow if such a compliment until he said the word _kid._

_Kid? KID? Who is he calling a kid? Great._

And then….. he patted me on the head like a dog and proceeded to leave the room.

He turned around to give me, what I like to call, a panty-dropping grin and I was lost.

"Nice to meet you, Bella. Take care of that shnoz."

……………………………………………………………………**.**

That was the first time I ever met Edward Cullen, but that was just the beginning.

I look down at my watch to see that it had been over half an hour since Rose said Edward should be here. Maybe he was stuck in traffic. Maybe it's not too late to tuck tail and run. Maybe…

"Bella." I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. I was so lost in my thoughts, I never heard anyone come out on the balcony.

I would know that voice anywhere. I dreamed of that rich baritone timbre every night. Those lips that were undoubtedly turned up into an endearing grin, I had once felt pressed against mine. I had shared a little of the breath that said my name like a caress.

But that was five years ago.

I've done quite a bit of growing up, but that seventeen year-old girl is still inside of me, anticipating this slightest bit of attention from this god among men that was never meant for me – the girl that would have done anything, just for the chance to be near to him.

The girl that would _still _do anything, just to breath his air.

I both loved and hated the electric currents that still hummed through my body all these years later.

"Hello, Edward."

I turned around to greet the man I could never stop loving… no matter how hard I tried.

**Sorry to be a tease, but I had to leave it here to keep the flow going. **

**They have a very intense history, but I thought I'd give you a taste of the beginning. I wanted to explain where they started, because where they ended up the last time they saw each other has to be explained. **

**Please review if you have the time. THANKS! :)**


	3. Best Foot Forward

**Author's Note: Sorry, found a couple of mistakes and I edited them from the original post. MY BAD!**

**I got a lot of PM's asking about Edward and Bella's age difference, but that's cleared up in this chapter. I can't tell you how old they are at present (yet) because then you'd see their split up coming and I don't want to give that away. All in good time, kiddies. **

**Thanks again to tg10781 and RingTheBella for pimpin' my story out. You guys rock my socks!**

**This is my first fanfic, so bear with me... it's a learning process. Feel free to review and share any thoughts, ideas, or comments you have. Thanks!**

**As always, all characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. **

* * *

**BPOV**

_I turned around to greet the man I could never stop loving… no matter how hard I tried. _

Five years.

Five years since I had been face to face with the man that haunted my dreams at night, lingered in the back of my mind everyday, and undoubtedly, forever had my heart and soul.

I was overwhelmed with his close proximity, but somehow mustered the strength to lift my face to his and meet his emerald eyes, which were brimming with an emotion I couldn't place. There was tenderness and affection there, but my own eyes could've be playing tricks on me – they had before.

"Bella," he whispered again, bringing his hand up as if to touch me, then slowly brought it back to his side as if he thought better of it.

"H-how have you b-been?" I smiled at him, though it felt more like a grimace. Smiling for him used to be so effortless – so natural.

"I'm well. And yourself?"

The forced formality was almost too much to bear. There was a time when it wasn't so. Back then he had been my confidant, my accomplice in adolescent shenanigans, my advisor in teenage angst, and even my friend. But _first and foremost_, he was the object of my affection.

And he still is.

"Good." I looked down at my feet. I found myself genuinely smiling for the first time tonight, well, in a long time actually, when I remembered Edward had once said I had pretty feet…

………………_**.FLASHBACK……………..**_

"Baby Jesus in a fucking manger, Bella! Can you not walk across a flat surface _without_ hurting yourself? Are you okay?"

That's Rose for ya – hurling an insult before showing any sign of concern. It's all apart of the tough exterior.

It had been four months since my first day at school, as well as the Cullen home. Since then, I had been here nearly every day after school hanging out with Rose.

At our first encounter I never thought we'd have anything in common, but I quickly found out that was not the case. When we discovered we shared of love of Guy Richie films, Aerosmith, and the Cheesecake Factory, it was all down hill from there.

We found a symbiosis of sorts – I calmed Rose down and she revved me up.

I had become to consider the Cullen place my second home. I even had my own room upstairs in one of the guest suites.

My comfort level with Rosalie and the rest of the Cullens was so much so that I rarely stuttered around them anymore. In fact, I had only managed to stutter once in a while, specifically, when I was around one particular Cullen male.

And it wasn't Carlisle.

Thank God Edward was at medical school in Seattle and was only here every other weekend. I didn't think I'd be able to handle his constant presence.

Through some rather covert questioning, I had discovered that Edward was in his second year at the University of Washington School of Medicine. Apparently he had taken a year break between his undergraduate degree and medical school. Rosalie had told me that he wanted to travel before he went back to school, but when I asked where he had been, the subject was immediately changed.

I didn't pry.

Rosalie and Edward seemed to have a love-hate relationship; they loved it when they were apart and hated it when they were in the same room. All typical sibling drama aside, it was obvious that they cared for the other… as long as no one was looking.

They did bicker a lot, but I noticed the way Rosalie looked up to Edward for the man he is and what he has accomplished. I also saw how he in turn doted on her and was proud of her for being such a headstrong and independent young woman.

Of course, that turned into Rosalie dubbing him a know-it-all and "Boy Wonder" and Edward calling her a spoiled brat and "Princess". I attributed the sibling rivalry to the eight-year age difference. A seventeen-year-old girl and a twenty-five-year-old man wouldn't have much in common.

I mentally sighed when I realized the same would be true of Edward and me, being a seventeen-year-old girl myself.

Esme's voice snapped me out of my Edward-induced stupor.

"Language, Rosalie!" yelled she from the kitchen. I never understood why Esme bothered correcting Rose. I guess she secretly hoped that if she corrected her daughter enough times one day it would sink in.

Esme severely underestimated Rose's hard head.

"Sorry, Mom!" Rose dismissed her mother and gave her attention back to me, shaking her head all the while.

"I _told_ you," I said through the pain of my twisted ankle, "I can't walk in high heels! I can barely walk in bare feet! How many times do you have to see me injure myself before you understand that I'm practically disabled when it comes to hand-eye coordination?"

The winter formal was coming up and Rose had picked me up from my house to spend our Saturday afternoon trying to train me to wear heels… and that just _wasn't_ happening. I had only been walking around her living room for all of thirty seconds before I went down… hard… as usual.

I mean, it wasn't as if I even had a date to the dance anyway, not that I hadn't been asked, thanks to Eric Yorkie. Fortunately or _un_fortunately, depending on how you look at it, Eric came down with mono so I was on my own once again. That didn't stop Rose from making me get a dress anyway and making me practice in these walking death traps she liked to call shoes.

Besides, I was just humoring Rose _and_ Eric. I had a plan; the day of the dance, I'd fake being sick or something. It was a win-win. Eric wouldn't feel rejected and I wouldn't have to embarrass myself in front of the whole school again.

_Maybe I could stay out late or something and make Charlie ground me. _

Though with my luck, Charlie would've _made_ me go to the formal as punishment, knowing I hated social gatherings as much, if not more, than he did.

Whatever. I'd think of something because I didn't care what Rose said, I was _not_ going to the dance!

"I know what you're thinking, and you're going to the dance," Rose said, reading my mind while grabbing my elbow and dragging me over to the couch.

"Ugh! Why are you doing this to me? I'm just going to be a third wheel with you and Sam, anyway," I whined.

Sam Uley was Rose's current flavor of the month, a freshman at Peninsula College in Port Angeles. I actually hoped Rose kept him around for a while. He was full-blooded Quileute, and when he found out I had a fascination with history, he brought me books on legends of his tribe.

I liked anyone who fed my inner geek.

"No you won't," she said dismissively, grabbing my leg much too quickly and swinging it on the couch to elevate.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

"And, yes, I will be a third wheel. Sam's a nice guy, but even a nice guy like him would like to be with his girlfriend with out her stupid little friend tagging along." I couldn't keep the whine from my voice.

I know deep down, Rose was just trying to cure my social retardation, but this was going too far. I was a lost cause.

I wished I was brave like her. I wished I was beautiful. I wished I was fearless and charming and coordinated like Rose… but one thing I'd always been was realistic and I knew I was none of those things… and I never would be.

"First of all, you are not stupid." She gave me a pointed stare that dared me to argue. "And secondly, you won't be a third wheel… because you have a date."

"WHAT?"

"So now you're clumsy _and_ deaf?" She turned my ankle over to get a look at the swelling, even though she had no idea what she was looking for. She was merely causing me more pain, in more ways than one. "Sam's cousin Jake is around your age…"

"Oh, shove it up your rear, Rose." Rosalie's attitude was becoming contagious. "I…"

"Language, Bella," Esme yelled from the kitchen.

"But I didn't curse!"

Esme popped her head out of the kitchen entryway to look at me. "I know, but it's not very ladylike. Besides, Rose is a lost cause and I feel there is still hope for you yet," she smiled conspiratorially at Rose while talking to me.

I guess Esme wasn't so naïve after all.

"Oh dear," Esme said, flailing her arms about and running towards me when she saw I was injured on the couch. "How bad is it? Do you need an ice pack? Should I take you to the hospital? Do you want a cookie?"

Esme was always looking for an excuse to feed me.

"A cookie? How's that going to help her ankle?" Rose asked to her mother with a laugh.

"I don't know," Esme hissed at Rosalie. "Look how skinny Bella is! It's no wonder she gets hurt so easily. Her malnutrition could be affecting her reflexes."

I rolled my eyes. "Believe me, Esme. Excess caloric intake will _not_ improve my coordination. Besides, I've gained twelve pounds since I've started eating in this house," I replied ruefully.

Esme scoffed. "And you could stand to gain twelve more. You were practically a stick. What are you, a size zero?"

"I'm a four, thank you very much," I add self-consciously.

"And yet she eats like a horse," Rose adds. Esme gave her a disapproving look. "Well, she does."

"Anyway," I interrupt. "My ankle is fine. Believe it or not, I've twisted an ankle before," I add sarcastically. "I know when something's broken and it's definitely not… or else I'd be screaming. I just need to keep it elevated for a while with an ice pack and I'll be gravy."

Esme patted my head and made her way back to the kitchen for an ice pack.

"Well, I have to go pick up your dresses in Port Angeles before they close. Rose will take care of you while I'm gone," she said over her shoulder.

Rose looked guilty all of a sudden. "Actually, I have a date with Sam. I'm meeting him in a half hour so…"

"Don't worry about me, Esme. I was just going to go home and read anyway…"

"Nonsense. You can't go anywhere on that ankle," Esme said, bringing an icepack back from the kitchen. She rolled up my jeans to my knees, placed a throw pillow underneath it, and put the ice on top of my ankle. "Vedge out in front of the TV for once and if you're ankle's not feeling better by the time I get home, Carlisle will carry you out to the car and drive you home."

Knowing I wouldn't get my way for them not to fuss over me, I relented.

Secretly, I relished in Esme's motherly affection. Renee wasn't here and even if she was, she was used to my clumsiness and wouldn't have paid much mind.

After giving me the remote, a blanket, the latest issue of Cosmo, a glass of raspberry iced tea, a turkey club sandwich, a bag of chips, and some of Esme's homemade peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, she and Rose finally left the house and I vedged out as requested.

_I wished I had asked Esme to bring me the book from my purse – there's just nothing good on TV anymore. _

Not ten minutes after I had been mindlessly channel surfing and stuffing my face with the turkey sandwich, I heard the front door open. I figured Esme or Rose had simply forgotten something until I heard the most beautiful voice in the world.

"Mom? Dad? Rosalie?..." yelled Edward, clanking his keys into the glass bowl near the door.

I was about to reply when I realized my mouth was crammed full of sandwich.

The house would appear to be empty since I had not yet replied to Edward's call.

At that moment, my ears fell prey to the most annoying woman's voice I had ever heard in my life – she sounded like a human squeak toy.

"Eddikins," the annoying high-pitched voice whined. "See? There were no cars in the driveway and no one's here in the house… you've had me wet all day and I can't wait long enough to head upstairs," she said all breathy.

To my ears, though, the breathiness made her sound like a whiney five-year-old child.

"Your kitchen table looks sturdy enough…" she trailed off.

_Eddikins? Wet? Upstairs? Kitchen table? Edward must have spilled something on her for her to be wet, but why would she need the kitchen table?_

I was utterly confused until one sentence from Edward would clear up the confusion in my naïve little mind…

"Vicki, I'm not fucking you on my mother's kitchen table. That's just not right," he replied.

_Oh my God…_

I was totally freaking out. I felt my face heat up like a fire-roasted tomato and I could feel my heart beating out of my chest.

_Holy crow! Do I say something? Do I stay as still and quiet as possible? Could my heart stand it, hearing Edward make love to this… this… squeaky woman?_

"Oh, don't be so uptight. You didn't have a problem when it was _my _kitchen table…"

_No, no, no, no, no… this is _not_ happening to me…_

"You've got me there," he laughed. I heard a wet, smacking sound I'm assuming was them kissing.

The kissing lasted much too long for my taste.

"But if you are _so _impatient and insistent on me taking you right here and now, perhaps we can take this to a softer venue… like the couch," he said in a low, gravelly voice that had me clenching my thighs together. "My hips are still recovering from the edge of your coffee table this morning."

Even though I knew that voice was not meant for me, it didn't hinder the effect it had on my lady parts. I had never had this kind of reaction to any boy… man… in my entire life.

_Oh no! Not the couch! _I'm_ on the couch!_

I know it was a bad idea _now_, but at that moment, I figured my only hope would be to flea the scene. I thought maybe I could crawl to the stairs next to the living room and make my way to the den downstairs… until I attempted to move.

I had forgotten all about my twisted ankle until I moved it to crawl in the floor. I couldn't hold in the whimper that escaped my lips, but that was all it took for me to be heard.

"What was that?" said the squeak toy woman.

"Hello?" Edward called.

_Busted…_

I cleared my throat and attempted to get back on the couch, but all that came out was, "Ow!"

"Bella?"

I looked up to see Edward standing over me with _Vicki_ standing behind him, arms crossed and her eyes were shooting daggers at me. I was on my hands and knees and I'm sure I looked suspicious. I was about to get a good look at my competition…

_Competition, Bella? Seriously? Like you have a snowball's chance in Hades with the man? Ever?_

"Bella… what are you doing?... And how long have you been in here?" said Edward in a voice that sounded something in between embarrassment, annoyance, and humor.

None of which was very appealing when addressed towards me.

"I… Ow!" I had tried to scramble back onto the couch.

Almost immediately his expression changed to that of concern and he gets down on his knees to assess the situation.

"Bella! What's wrong?"

"I… t-twisted ankle… R-rose… heels… and Esm-me g-gone… t-turk-key sandwich…" I tried to get out, but it was just no use. With having a twisted ankle, hearing Edward and _her _talking about sexing up the couch, being near Edward _period_, my speech came out a jumbled mess of nonsense and I had no doubt that Vicki must have thought I was "special".

_Good going, Bella. That made absolutely no sense whatsoever._

"Well, I got the twisted ankle part. Did you catch the rest of that Eddikins?" Vicki said laughing, but I could hear the hint of venom in her tone.

I mean, it wasn't as if I had decided to twist my ankle today in some evil plot to ruin Vicki and _Eddikins_ couch boinking, though I can't say I was too sad about it. I was only upset that I had made a fool of myself yet again.

If Edward heard her malicious tone, he ignored it. "Vicki, could you grab the black medical bag from the hall closet and bring it here, please?"

Edward's hands were suddenly on my back making soft slow circles. My lady parts noticed.

"Bella, do you think you can prop up against the couch for me so I can have a look?"

"Uh-uh-um… s-sure."

As he put his hand around my hip to help maneuver me to a sitting position, Vicki noticeably huffed and puffed.

"Vicki, please?" Edward asked again in an irritated voice.

Suddenly, Britney Spear's "Toxic" was blaring… it was Vicki's cell.

Obviously overjoyed about an excuse to _not_ help, Vicki said sweetly, "Sorry, Eddikins, I've got to take this." She made her way out of the room and into the kitchen. "Hello? Hey Laurent!..."

Edward just sighed, rolled his eyes, and sat back on his heels to have a look at my ankle.

He ran his hands almost reverently over bruising skin of my foot. His touch was raising goose bumps all over my body and and I shivered.

"Are you cold, Bella?"

I blushed again, feeling the blood rush to my face. "I'm alright."

I mentally congratulated myself on uttering three whole syllables without tripping over them.

While he was looking over my injury, I took the time to study him. I was so rarely treated to seeing Edward this close so I had to take every moment I could to _really_ look at him.

His fingers were soft and gentle as they swept over my skin. I wondered what they'd feel like on my cheek.

His eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration, forming little wrinkles in the center of his forehead. I longed to smooth those lines.

His disheveled bronze hair was lying across his forehead – it looked so soft smooth. I wanted to touch it with my fingers.

He smelled like soap and mint and man. I wanted to bury my head in his chest and breathe him in.

His mouth was pouty and full and he was biting his lower lip. _I _wanted to bite it, too.

_What? You want to bite him? Where did that come from? Like you know what you're talking about…_

"Ouch!" Edward's pressure on the outside of my ankle brought me back from my thoughts.

"Sorry. It's definitely a sprain and it's going to be a bit tender for a while," he said, patting my shin twice.

_Why is everyone always patting me like a dog?_

_Because you _look_ like one, Bella…_

Okay, so self-esteem was never my strong suit.

"I th-thought s-so," was my not so witty reply.

"Be right back."

He gives me a breathtaking smile, gets up to retrieve the medical bag from the closet, and comes back to wrap my ankle.

"Nice nail polish."

"Huh?"

"Your nail polish. It's blue," he observed, wrapping my ankle delicately with tape.

"Oh. Well, Rose s-said it w-would d-draw at-at-attention to m-my toes and make my f-feet look sm-smaller."

_So much for not stuttering… and great job making him notice your big feet. _

_WHY ARE YOU TELLING HIM THIS?_

"Well, Bella, being a student of medicine, I've looked at a lot of feet and I must say yours are the prettiest feet I've seen yet," he smiled at me.

_HE THINKS I HAVE PRETTY FEET! I HAVE PRETTY FEET!_

"And blue just so happens to be my favorite color," he adds with a wink.

"Th-thank you," I mumble and look down, creating a curtain of hair around my face to hide the blush staining my cheeks yet again.

When his attention is back on his work taping my ankle, I started studying Edward again and thought about what else he saw when or _if _he looked at me…

…Rose's little friend with frizzy brown hair… muddy brown eyes… overgrown eyebrows… a mouth much too wide for it's face… high cheekbones that, Renee had once said, kind of looked alien… teeth covered in wires and metal… skin so pale, it's practically translucent… a disproportionate body type that had C-cup breasts, but were unfortunately attached to a body comparable to that of a twelve-year-old boy… jutting hipbones and gangly legs…

And Vicki… _Victoria_… flowing, shiny red hair that's perfectly curled… bright blue eyes… shapely eyebrows… a symmetrical mouth and nose… perfectly placed cheekbones that _don't _make herlook like an extraterrestrial… straight, white, metal-free teeth… perky little boobs that are proportional to the rest of her thin, statuesque body… she was his age.

Even if I looked like Vicki, I was still seventeen. Him being involved with me wasn't even _legal_.

_What am I thinking? I will _never_ stand a chance… and dreaming will only lead to misery._

At that very moment, _that moment_, I had an epiphany. I would repress any romantic thought I would ever have about Edward Cullen. I would repel any ideas about his lips or hair or hands. I would reject any feelings about his smell or his voice.

I would resist any dreams about one day being beautiful enough, or smart enough, or just _good_ enough in general for him to love me… because I was going to be his friend.

If that was all I could ever be to this beautiful, compassionate, intelligent man, then that's what I'd be.

I was young and naïve when it came to boys, relationships, love, and _making_ love, but I knew enough. I knew that Edward was the only boy… _man… _that already wielded more power over my heart (and hormones) than anyone I had ever come across and that was dangerous to my already incomplete self.

I vowed I would never let Edward Cullen break my heart.

Little did I know that _that_ promise was the first of many that I would make to myself concerning Edward Cullen… and I would end up breaking nearly every single one of them.

……………………………………………………………………**.**

I was rendered speechless at the familiar tingles racing down my spine by merely being in his presence, much less being within touching proximity. I lost a war in control with my own body as my left hand came up to touch his forearm. He placed his hand over my own.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this – the intensity that was still between us… at least the intensity of my affections.

He had given me plenty of reasons to hate him, to rage out against him, but I loathed myself more for not being able to hate him _enough_.

I hated what he made me feel.

I hated what he didn't feel.

I hated him.

Someone once told me the opposite of love isn't hate; the opposite of love is indifference.

I wanted to be indifferent, but I wasn't. I loved him. So much. Still.

I knew I had to burst this bubble we were in. I had to. I was suffocating in all of these emotions and I could only handle one attitude at a time.

I chose sarcasm…

"So, Edward…"

I was proud of the confident nonchalance in my voice thanks to years of practice under Rosalie's tutelage.

"Yes, Bella?" Edward looked deep in my eyes, almost as if he was searching for my soul.

I guess he didn't realize I no longer had one. He took it with him five years ago.

"How's your wife?"

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN!**

**So ya, he has a wifey.**

**I have a plan, kids... all in good time.**

**I'm going to go ahead and give you a warning, there _might_ be a lemon in the next chapter. If not, definitely in chapter five.**

**I have yet to determine whether or not I am going to add an EPOV... it might mess with my plot timing. We'll see. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. Reviews give me warm fuzzies. **


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